


Who I Want

by thediscontent



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Feels, Cheating, Fluff, Guilt, M/M, Porn With Plot, Revenge, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27774304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thediscontent/pseuds/thediscontent
Summary: Impossible decisions lead to impossible outcomes. Fundy doesn't want to be forgotten, Dream is guilty, and George is trying his best. This is not a matter of winning. It's a matter of surviving.(Idk the cheating stuff on stream today was really intriguing to me. basically the smp storyline but make it more dramatic.)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 356





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first fic!!!  
> Anyways y'all lmk whats up.  
> Oh also this isn't exactly canon, but who cares lmao.  
> is this a oneshot? idk maybe, maybe not

George’s moans were soft and breathy, his thighs tight around Dream’s waist, forcing him in deeper, harder. His pale throat was covered in marks, his head thrown back in euphoria. His delicate hands scrabbled at Dream’s shoulders, nails biting into tanned flesh, forcing a low groan out of the taller man. 

Dream leaned down and captured his lips in a possessive, hungry kiss, his hands heavy and rough on George’s hips as he set a faster pace.

“F-fuck-please, harder.”

Dream complied. He always complied. Anything George wanted, ever, Dream would do it, no matter the cost, no questions asked. He was in so fucking deep. God, if George only knew the way he had Dream wrapped around his finger.

“Dream, please, ah!” George sobbed into Dream’s ear, pulling languidly at his hair. 

Dream swallowed down George’s desperate pants, whispering praise in his ears, angling George’s hips in the way they both liked.

George’s back arched, and with a rough bite placed at his throat, he was done, ecstasy rolling through his body, his kiss bruised mouth opened wide.

Dream rocked their bodies together, George pressing soft kisses into the side of his throat as he chased his climax. His brown hair was mussed about, fluffed out atop the fine down pillows Dream had gotten for him, his hands tangled in his white blankets, writhing under Dream, overstimulated, tears rolling down his soft cheeks. Dream kissed him sweetly, a stark contrast to the way his hips were roughly pounding into George’s wrecked body.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” Dream grumbled breathlessly.

George whimpered in reply and began pushing back into Dream’s thrusts. He bit at his lips, gripping at Dream’s shoulders, fucking himself up onto Dream, the fine lines of his hipbones covered in pretty hand-shaped bruises, his slim chest heaving with effort. Dream spilled into him with a bone-rattling groan, pressing deep into the most sensitive spots of George’s body, forcing the smaller to come yet again, his lithe body going stiff as a board, clenching around Dream almost painfully. He ran his hands down George’s sides, combing his hands through his sweaty hair, away from where it had fallen into his eyes. George had his eyes shut, thoroughly worn out, panting softly, his thighs quivering on the bed as Dream pulled out gently. 

Dream gathered George up in his arms, cuddling the boy close into his chest. George’s body fit so perfectly with Dream’s, his head slotting into the crook of Dream’s neck, his hands coming to rest on his chest, soft breaths puffing into the cool air. The pleasant scent of peat and lavender wafted into the small mushroom house, filling the bedroom with comfort and peace. Neither of them were quite awake, but they weren’t sleeping either, just enjoying each other’s company in a haze of soft skin and loving touches. 

Dream sighed heavily, causing George to stir, rubbing at his eyes. Dream lifted George’s chin with his hand, meeting his drowsy gaze with a knowing sadness. 

“Baby, I have to go soon.”

“Wha-,” George groaned softly, “Why?”

Dream didn’t answer, smiling down at him guiltily. He slid his hand behind George’s head, thumbing over the strands carefully, and stroked his flushed cheeks. George knew why. 

George bit at his lips and looked away.

“Dream I- I feel bad.”

Dream tutted at him and shook his head. 

“Don’t, none of this is your fault. All the blame,” He kissed George’s forehead, “is on me.”

“But still, this isn’t right, Dream. You’re engaged to him.”

“Not by choice.”

“Ugh! Dream, seriously. How can I even look him in the eye? How can you?”

Dream clenched his jaw and looked away, the familiar presence of guilt set in, accompanied by a sense of irritation. 

“Dream, listen to me. You’re getting married soon, and I-I don’t know how to feel about it.” Dream tried to cut in, but George pressed a finger to his lips.

“I know you only did it for the peace agreement, but you will be bound together before the gods, baby. Who am I to...stand in the way of that? I am selfish. I want you, all to myself, and I don’t want to share. All this sneaking around behind his back, the lies, the faking, I can’t-” 

He stopped, tears welling in his eyes, and Dream’s heart broke at the sight. He sniffed sadly, wiping his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m not asking you to choose, because I know you can’t make that decision. I just don’t know what to do. This is wrong.”

Dream stared at him, thumbing the fallen tears off his cheeks. 

“I would choose you. If I could.” He whispered gently.

“That doesn’t help.” George scoffed.

“I would though. I like Fundy, and he’s cute and all, but you…” He smiled “You are incredibly beautiful. I love you so much that it hurts.”

“Again, Dream, not helping.” George’s lips flattened in displeasure.

“Still. I just want you to know.” 

“What do you even plan to do after the wedding? Keep me as your _ mistress _ ?” George hissed.

“Oh come on now, don’t say it like that.” Dream joked, flipping George underneath him.

“How else am I supposed to say it? What other recourse is there besides ending this?”

Dream closed his eyes, nostrils flaring in pain.

“Don’t-don’t. Please.” 

“Dream, we need to discuss this. I’ll take whatever I can get from you, but I need to know what “ _ whatever _ ” will be.”

George’s hands met Dream’s face, so careful and kind. Warmth spread through their bodies as their foreheads touched, a small motion of comfort. Something that they might not have again. Something they never should’ve had.

“I love you.” Dream’s voice was tearful, breaking slightly.

“I know. I love you too.”

Dream hardly wanted to leave after that. He tucked George into his bed, kissed away his tears, and tried his damnest to not break down in his arms. He felt torn in two, torn between duty and desire, between two people, an impossible choice. The long walk from George’s house in the SMP to Fundy’s in New L’Manburg was a solemn one. Each step he took from George’s bed was painful, was like ripping his heart out and leaving it to trail behind him. He tried to focus on the way his armor pinched at his skin, the sound of mobs groaning in the dark, the chill of the night air, but his mind kept circling back to George. God,  _ George _ . George would’ve fixed his armor. He would’ve held Dream’s hand a little tighter when he was scared. He would’ve shivered until Dream gave him his jacket and sent him a cloying smile. Fuck. He couldn’t stop himself. How could anyone walk away from that?

He wasn’t obligated to stay the night at Fundy’s, and he certainly wasn’t going to stay in the same bed, but he had promised his presence at dinner. When he finally reached L’Manburg, stepping up into Fundy’s doorway, his hand hesitated. Knocking seemed so final, so...separating. He never did end up knocking, as Fundy swung the door open the scent of cooked bread rushing out with a gust of warm air. 

“Dream! You’re finally here!”

Fundy smiled brightly and threw his arms around Dream’s neck, hugging him tightly. Dream patted his back halfheartedly. Guilt washed over him, filled his lungs with sea salt and his throat with briars. Over Fundy’s shoulder, he could see his father, Wilbur, and other L’Manburg citizens, happily engrossed in conversation. Dream felt Fundy’s grip falter. He worried for a moment, knowing the fox-hybrid had a strong nose, and he probably smelled of George-of sex. He quickly stepped away and painted a false smile over his face.

“Yeah, sorry...repairs at George’s took longer than expected.”

Fundy swallowed, and brushed his hair behind his ear. He blinked heavily and stepped back into the doorway.

“That’s uh, t-that’s okay. Just, c-come in! Um...Welcome home!”

Dream smiled to himself. He thought of baby soft skin and strong little hands. Of lavender and peat. Of warm brown eyes and fluffy hair. 

_ Yeah right. Home. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also I was listening to cellophane by FKA twigs the whole time I was writing this, if that helps with any context .


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so tired. I wrote this on a school night bc I just had an idea for a scene where George just blows up on Dream and I couldn't stop .idk how happy I am with this one. As always, I hope you enjoy!

It is a distinct kind of pain to see someone you love suffering. It is lonely and despairing, and it feels utterly useless. Such a strange tension, the inability to change things, a lover despondent and breaking with only the strained company of an uncertain partner. The pain is empathetic, and yet it finds a way to feel selfish at the same time. It is destructive, and Dream knew the feeling well. He knew it with each hidden flash of anger in George's eyes. With each fallen tear, he quickly wiped away as he thought it escaped Dream's notice. 

He always noticed. Always. He knew George's body language intimately. Years of pining and watching fervently from afar had granted him a surprisingly analytical clarity of the state of George's emotions based on the positioning of his hands, his posture, even the speed of his breathing. He knew when George felt vulnerable because he'd wrap his arms around himself, a pale imitation of an embrace. He knew when he was happy because his hands would gesticulate wildly, his eyes bright and shining. Every emotion was painted, every smile and laugh and frustrated huff of breath, Dream knew. He took pride in reading the little clues and fixing the problem with the right words, with the right touch. Despite all that, despite how desperately he wanted to protect George, how fucking devoted he made himself, he couldn't fix this.

Pain can be forgotten. Pain can be soothed. Pain can be washed away and healed. Dream had to live by that. He had to remember.

Dream now spent most of his day gallivanting around with Fundy, ever the dutiful fiance. For the most part, George was left alone with his thoughts, left to stew, simmering anger just under his skin. He had told Dream that it was okay, he had pretended to be the patient man, but he wasn't. He was vengeful and full of jealousy. He avoided L'Manburg at all costs, for he knew that if he saw Fundy without properly preparing himself, he would do something he'd regret. It wasn't Fundy's fault, not really. He was another victim in this. That did little to satisfy George's frustration, due to the fact that he knew that Fundy had been desperately in love with Dream for months. So, he stayed home, sitting on his hands, performing meaningless acts of duty as the puppet monarch, perpetually vexed. 

When Dream could find the time or the excuse, he spent his nights with George, returning with gifts to appease. Tonight was no different; their foreheads were pressed together as they basked in the shared warmth of their bed, Dream pressing his body down onto George’s, a comforting weight. George threaded his hands into Dream’s hair, pulling him down to press chaste kisses on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Dream smiled and closed his eyes, finally at peace. He went to flip them and pull George on top of himself, but before he could make any real change in position, George hissed in pain as his hips shifted in Dream’s hands. Dream stopped immediately, eyes filled with concern.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, a softness in his voice.

“ ’S nothing. My back just hurts a little bit.”

“What? Why?”

George narrowed his eyes and laughed. He grabbed one of Dream’s hands and pressed it to the top of his hip bone, where fading bruises decorated his skin. Bruises Dream had left there during-

“Right...” Dream felt a little guilty.

George smirked and smoothed Dream’s hair back with one hand, the other gripping his chin, shaking his head around like he was scolding a puppy.

“Dream, I love you, but you are not a gentle man.”

Dream frowned, his lips flattening into a line. George let out a hiccupy laugh, his nose scrunched up, and Dream felt a little bit better. Maybe George was okay; maybe he didn't mind the ache as much as Dream feared he would. Maybe he should _ask_.

“You like it though.” He said, nervous, more of a question than an admission of truth.

George hummed to himself, looking away from Dream to focus on something in the distance.

“Do I?” He responded, a humorous lilt apparent in his voice. Well, at least it was apparent to George.

Dream’s eyes widened, his breathing going heavy and ragged. His hands shook as he brought them to George’s face, moving it so that their eyes locked.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was whispery and weak, and it made George’s heart hurt.

“Dream, I was only kidding. Hey-c’mon, you know I trust you. You know I like it.” He tilted his head, not unlike a curious kitten. “What’s wrong? You don’t usually get like this.”

“I'm fine. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Dream. You just freaked out because I made a joke. I know you. I know how you behave. I know when there’s something else going on.”

“What do you think, George, If you know me so well. What could possibly be bothering me? Huh? In all this mess, what could make me act a little “ _freaked out”_?” Dream’s face was marred with an angry snarl, his hands clenched in fists on either side of George’s head. “What do you think?”

George blanched, swallowing hesitantly. He was pale, cowering under the broad wings of Dream's outburst of rage. He looked small, scared, but under that, an anger of his own grew, folding open and pouring out until the surprise on his face melted away, replaced with thinly veiled fury. George felt something inside him break. Dream watched, biting his tongue as the man underneath him hardened, the hands placed in what used to be a loving embrace on his cheeks stiffening and moving away to rest on his chest, readying himself in an easy position to shove Dream off of him. His teeth grit together, and his jaw trembled as he spoke.

"I only ask-," George stopped himself, closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths before he started again, in a markedly more even, calm tone. "I only ask because I care for you. And if that bothers you _so much_ , then I am terribly sorry, but I can't do much to fix it. I told you that this was a bad idea-"

"Oh, George, please, don't be like that."

"Be like what? Honest? You come to fuck me after picking out the flavor of your wedding cake, which I know you chose my favorite on purpose; I'm not dumb. You bring me flowers from the decorations, ask me what I want as gifts, which, I _hope_ you aren't planning on giving me your fucking wedding presents. Dream I-" He scrubbed his hand through his hair. "I want to ask you to break this off. I want to throw a fit, I want you to take me far away from here, away from all the monarchy, away from the fighting, I want so much from you." His voice was breaking, and Dream could only hold him as his stuttered breathing wracked through his lungs. 

"I want so much from you," He reiterated, "But I can't have it."

"George."

"This was good, what we had between us. I love you, and I know you love me. We worked so hard to get here, to earn our place at each other's sides, and I am trying my _best_ to play my role as your devoted friend and ally, but I am withering away. I pretend what we have between us is platonic, but I don't want to hide it away again. To pretend that you don't mean something more hurts. It feels like shame. You made a decision, and now we all have to live with the consequences of it, me most of all."

"I never meant-"

"Am I just collateral damage?" His voice was scratchy and heavy on his tongue. " Did you think about us at all?"

"Of course I did, George, of course-" 

"Really? There was no other option but to promise your hand to that- that fox?" George's lip curled.

"Stop." Dream threatened.

"No, I don't think I will stop; I think I deserve this much. I think I deserve to do this, just once. I can hide myself away, I can keep my tongue in check, I can force my hands not to wander in his presence, but I will not refuse myself this. You have destroyed who we used to be. Do you realize that? In the name of a treaty, essentially in the name of consolidating your own power, you have changed the very framework of our lives. We can never be together, not truly. You can never devote yourself to me. You can never be faithful."

"I can! I can be faithful. This marriage doesn't have to change anything-"

"This marriage changes _everything!_ Why don't you understand that? You and your guilt will never go away; he will never go away. He loves you, Dream. I can see it in his eyes, he adores you. You..." George brought his hands to Dream's face again, and Dream could do nothing but melt into the touch. "You are a good man, and you want to be faithful to your spouse, you respect the sanctity of marriage, and that's why this is killing you inside."

Dream looked down at him through heavily lidded eyes.

"But I can't give you up."

"This was supposed to be us, Dream. We were supposed to pick out colors and fabrics. We were supposed to plan a honeymoon," George shuttered at the thought of Dream and Fundy on their honeymoon. "We were supposed to-"

Dream leaned down and kissed him, effectively shutting him up until his muffled sobs were uncontainable. 

George's eyes were puffy and reddened, framed by thick wet lashes, his flushed cheeks tear-stained. 

"We were supposed to get our own happily ever after." His face was pitiful, almost like he was pleading for Dream to make it better, and _god_ , Dream wished he could. 

He wished he could make everything okay again, take back his words, said in anger, things he didn't mean. He wished he could've never made the deal in the first place. Every time they fought, every time they argued, even when he slightly upset George, his heart broke, filled with the need to placate, to soothe, to cover George with a blanket of apologies and affection.

"I would give anything to give that back to you."

"But you can't." George's eyes fluttered shut. "And I want to hate you for it. I wish I could. But I can't."

The silence stretched out, emotional exhaustion taking its toll on the pair. Dream had more or less melted into George, who hardly had the energy to move, the simmering rage he harbored finally boiled over, leaving him feeling empty. Dream took a deep breath, gently shifting them to where he curled around George, his chest pressed to the smaller's back, placing feather-light kisses to his neck. What could've been hours or minutes later, by the time George was probably asleep, Dream couldn't help but choke out another apology, pressed into the back of George's head, said with such anguish Dream thought he might die. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

He breathed in the smell of George's skin and fell asleep, his thoughts whirling around his head, ever-changing, but _always_ , always returning to the original.

_I don't deserve this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmk what y’all think. Next chapter will be more fundy related ;)


End file.
